The Bonds of Blood (12 page)

He stopped after a few moments of
searching, and looked around at all of them gathered in the ill-lit
room.

Candalyn sent up a prayer of protection
for Amber. Turning, Candalyn walked to the back of the chapel and
sounded the gong three times.

Everyone bowed their heads, and
Candalyn took up his spot at the altar again as the last of the
ringing chimed through the stone chapel. The six gathered in the
pews, repeating a solemn prayer of protection and good fortune for
Amber.

“Now, it is about time we talk about a
rescue party,” their father said.

“I will go,” Jovian said.

Dauin nodded. “I had rather thought you
would.”

“I am going as well,” Angelica
interjected. “Jovian and I work better as a team, and Destra
herself has said that besides Jovian, I am the best fighter there
is on the whole of the plantation.”

“But how are we to leave?” Joya
asked.

“That is the problem. I fear there will
be no choice but to wait for this accursed wind to halt before any
further advances are made,” Dauin said.

“So is that it then? Is that all there
is to discuss? The three of us wait until the wind halts, and then
we leave?” Jovian said.

“Not the three of you. One more person
will be going, and only one.” At this Destra rose and stalked out
of the room, her arms crossed over her chest, and her face set in
an unreadable mask.

“What is her problem?” Joya asked
Angelica, but it was then that Grace rose again.

“Destra thinks your father’s choice of
your last companion is an … unwise decision,” the old lady
said.

“And who is this last person?” Angelica
asked, her suspicion deepening.

“That would be Grace, children,” Dauin
said firmly, informing the three of them that this was not open for
discussion. “She has traveled more than any person on this
plantation, and having done so she knows her way around the Great
Realms, not to mention that she is versed in all the cultures of
the Realms.”

“Not all of them, Dauin,” Grace said,
“but a large majority of them.” She smiled at the three
youths.

“Is there anything else?” Jovian said,
just as unhappy as Destra, and obviously for the same
reason.

“Yes, there is something else missing
as well,” Dauin said after a long pause. “It seems as though Amber
is not the only thing that went missing. This morning I found that
your mother’s medallion was gone too.” He turned and looked to all
of them. “It is really not an important thing, but it did belong to
your mother, and it was one of her most prized possession as it was
given her by her twin sister. While you are gone, look for that as
well. It is one of the remaining things I had that reminded me of
your mother, and I would be very dismayed to have it lost for good.
I am sure that when you find Amber, you will find that
medallion.”

“How can you be positive?” Joya
asked.

“Trust me; I am sure that the medallion
is with Amber’s abductors.”

Something in his voice told the youths
that there was more to the story, but none wanted to venture down
that road.

“Now,” Grace said, cutting in with a
stout clapping of her hands, “it is time that you should all go
pack your things so that we can be prepared when the time comes to
depart.”

“Who exactly is leading this journey?”
Jovian crossed his arms over his chest to show that he was not
moving an inch.

Watching the butting of the heads
commence, Joya rolled her eyes at the drama she knew they’d be in
for. It would be a long journey …

“Even the wisest leader, boy, knows
when to take council from one more experienced than he,” Grace said
scathingly.

“That is enough,” Dauin scolded, “or I
will send you both to your rooms. This is a horrible way to start a
journey. Girls, go pack. Grace, I think you better heed your own
advice as well. Jovian, stay back with me. I would like to talk
with you. Candalyn,” Dauin said, looking to the votary who had
remained predictably silent through the entire exchange, “if you
would not mind, I wish to be alone with my son.”

Candalyn nodded and hurried the women
out of the chapel.

“You would be wise to not enrage Grace
during the travel. She is not one who likes being crossed,” Dauin
chided, sitting back down and looking up at his rigid
son.

“She would be wise to fall in line; she
is not running this show.” Jovian was beyond being fed up with the
old lady’s waspishness.

“She is right, you know. Grace has far
more knowledge on these sorts of things than you do. The only thing
you have that she is not proficient in is fencing.” Dauin pointed
to the bench, and Jovian sat reluctantly. “That is the reason you
are in charge. She will give you the lead, but when she gives
advice, it would be wise for you to take counsel and not buck her
for the sake of proving who has the bigger set.”

Jovian scoffed and averted his eyes to
the shrouded windows. A powerful slap across the face brought him
back to himself. Jovian’s palm instantly met the flesh of his cheek
where the impact reddened his skin.

“I taught you better than that!” Dauin
scolded. “If you keep it up I will let Alhamar take your
place.”

“You know that he would not be able to
set one foot out those doors, he is scared of his own shadow,”
Jovian fired back, rubbing his face.

Neither spoke for a moment as they
imagined Alhamar taking the lead. A chuckled broke out between
them, and Dauin’s face split into a genuine smile. “I do love you,”
he said and hugged his son tightly. “Promise me that you will not
irritate her too much?”

“I promise, Father, that I will only
irritate her as much as she provokes me,” Jovian promised all he
could, hugging his father back.

“Good then; now run off and
pack.”

Jovian nodded and stood, leaving his
father sitting alone in the chapel to pray.

As he exited the wide doorway that led
out of the sanctuary, something beckoned Jovian’s
attention.

Jovian
, a voice echoed through his head.
Jovian, go to Angelica’s room at once. We have something to
discuss.

Jovian did not stop to contemplate
where the voice was coming from, or to analyze the strange kind of
power it filled him with. Instead he obeyed and raced through the
corridors heading for his sister’s bedroom.

CHAPTER EIGHT

_“C
ome in,” Angelica said
quietly
when Jovian knocked on her
door.

When he pushed the door open, he was
shocked to see Angelica standing in front of her full-length
mirror, which was now glowing silver. The Aramaiti appeared to them
both often, but this was the first time she had shown herself in
such a way.

Slowly the silver light began to part,
almost like a misty curtain, and only darkness was beyond. Ice blue
eyes appeared beyond the darkness, blurred, insubstantial as if
they were being seen through murky water. Just below the eyes came
a small nose and full mouth all framed within a stern face and a
barely discernible mass of black hair that blended almost
completely with the darkness beyond.

The one thing of the Aramaiti that
appeared better than anything else was the white dress, drifting
like gossamer curtains on a lazy breeze. It was from this gown that
the silver light emanated.

Jovian, Angelica, thank you
for coming,
the serene voice spoke into
their minds, and for a moment Angelica had to grip Jovian’s arm as
a wave of vertigo hit her. She had never been touched mentally
before, and had very little talent for it.
It is okay, child,
the voice
spoke.
Like you, at one time I was not one
for the use of mental powers, for it was beyond my
talents.

“When did she start speaking, Jovian?”
Angelica asked, slowly coming around.

“This is the first time I have heard
it,” Jovian responded, his eyes glued to the mirror.

This is the first time I
have spoken to you,
the voice
confirmed.

“But you have spoken to others?”
Angelica asked.

In a manner of speaking,
yes.

“Are you real?” Angelica
asked.

Of course I am real.
Whoever said I was not?

Neither of them replied.

Because the way I appear
you thought I was not real?
The face looked
very concerned.
Oh dear, you have not been
taught well.
A lapse of silence passed as
the face looked vacant. Then it spoke again.
Rest assured that I am very real.

“Who are you?” Jovian asked, cutting in
before the Aramaiti could continue.

We really don’t have time
for this,
she said, starting to grow
impatient.

“Please, a name,” Angelica
urged.

What do you call me
now?

“Aramaiti,” Jovian said.

Ah, guardian spirit of the
land and home; very nice touch. I have been called a guardian
before, and I rather like the name. Very well, for now we will
continue with that.
The face appeared as
pleased as the voice.

Are there further questions
or can we continue on with the reason you are here?

“Wait,” Jovian said, “what is the Pale
Horse?”

The face looked distraught,
and Aramaiti glanced around herself as if there were beings within
the mirror with her that they could not see.
It is better not to talk about it here; not in the current
state of things.

“Then it is not anything good?” Jovian
asked, feeling worried and now cold with dread. He rubbed his arms
absently trying to warm himself.

It is not good, not at all.
I can say no more on it.

“Who is the Mask, and what is a
Daunastu?” Angelica said next.

What makes you think I know
all these answers?
The face frowned, and
even in that action she was the most beautiful woman Jovian had
ever seen.
Is it because I appear so
wyrded? For some reason people always assume that wyrd holds all
the answers
, the voice mused to
herself.

“Yes,” Angelica admitted.

The voice gave the
impression of laughing.
I suppose that
would do it. No, I do not know what Daunastu means. It is a word
created by the prophet who received the vision. It is a code, so to
speak; one that only he can translate.

“Then what is the point of foretelling
something if you make up words that only you know?” Angelica asked,
very frustrated with the answers that were not doing their
job.

“See, I told you prophecy was stupid,”
Jovian muttered, and the woman smiled.

I said before that I am not
psychic, so I am not the best authority on this topic, but I feel
it has something to do with the prophet, Ellysann, and his
insecurities in his gift. He was always the type to doubt
himself.

“You knew him?” Angelica asked, her
thoughts spinning.

I know him,
Aramaiti corrected.

“So who is this Mask?” Jovian
asked.

This I do not
know
, she said regrettably. Angelica
clenched her jaw.
Do not put so much faith
in prophecies, child. I am of your brother’s mind about them; if
you believe them enough, and seek to find the conclusion of a
prophecy, you risk becoming an instrument of that prophecy. You do
not want to be controlled in such a way,
Aramaiti cautioned.
Now, are we
ready?

“Ready for what?” Angelica
asked.

That is what we are going
to get to, as long as all the questions are done.

“I am done,” Jovian said, and Angelica
conceded.

Good, I am going to help
you two stop the wind.

“Is that possible?” Jovian
asked.

Yes, it is very much
possible, and you two are going to do it.

“But what are they? Destra says that
they are from Baba Yaga ….” Angelica fidgeted, feeling silly
bringing up a child’s tale.

Yes, they are from Baba
Yaga, but they were not placed on this plantation by her.
The voice faltered, as if she were not giving the
information up willingly. For some reason Aramaiti was hesitant on
how much to tell them.

“Well, then who placed them on our
home?” Jovian prodded.

The
Vessel
, Aramaiti answered
simply.

“Who’s that?” the two of them asked in
unison.

The Vessel is the one who
kidnapped your sister and the medallion. He travels with her now,
to the east.

“Where are they going?” Jovian
queried.

I don’t know where they are
going. I only know which direction they are headed in.